


I wanna hold your hand

by everlystarkey



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Dinner, Gifts, Letters, M/M, that are obviously threats, tommy is clueless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24297952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlystarkey/pseuds/everlystarkey
Summary: Was Tommy stupid? No. Did he confuse loving gestures as being part of an attempt to destroy his empire? Sometimes.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. chapter one

“TOMMY! THERE’S A PARCEL HERE!” Ada shouts, unnecessarily loud for such a small home. The neighbours would be complaining to the coppers if we weren't the family we were. Standing up from my desk inside my room I make my way down the stairs, wondering who could have possibly sent me a parcel. Sometimes Ada or Polly got things sent to the home such as Christmas cards from friends or something else generic but never anyone else. The fact it was a parcel as well was concerning to me. There could be a pipe bomb or something inside - wouldn't be the first time one of them had gone off in Birmingham, it was popular with those who were too scared to carry out the deep personally. Usually teenagers in street beef and other similar situations.  
“From a Mr wandering jew” she smirked, obviously finding some amusement by the name of the sender. I took the unusually heavy parcel from her and walked with it, using both my hands, though a few short alleys until I came to a clearing of grass, taking the time to grab a knife before leaving. Being out in the open meant that if something were to go off or perhaps there were some fumes ready to spray out at me then the damage wouldn't be so bad. it was much preferred to have the bomb go off outside rather than in our home.  
A wandering Jew? No one had ever referred to or been referred to by that name but I had one guess as to who it most likely was. Alfie Solomons, the mad jew of candem town. A man who I had started business negotiations with not only a week ago when I had visited his bakery-turned-brewery down in London. It had been a strange experience, without a doubt, he was a large-framed man with a scruffy exterior and crazy blue eyes which were not the tiniest bit ashamed of looking you up and down as you spoke. I hadn't said anything to him at the time, however - much preferring to keep the conversation mostly positive to ensure he wants to work with me, not that there was much of a chance of him saying no anyway as he seemed to need my extra men desperately. But still, good talk meant good percentages.   
But the question still stands. Why had he sent me this to my home address? Lizzie had set up a meeting on my behalf with one of his people so I was sure he knew my office address. But my home? Even if he still knew my home address through having spies in Birmingham he wouldn't send it to my address unless he wanted to make a point. letters about various business agreements went to the office - hardly an unheard-of concept. maybe he wanted to let me know that he knew where I lived and slept. Perhaps it was some tactic to show me he was in charge in the deal, calling the shots if you will.   
Come to think of it, I didn't even know his home address. After making a mental note to ask one of my men to uncover that information I shifted my attention to take a closer look at the parcel. It was relatively big. Solid and heavy too as if whatever was enclosed inside was protected under the brown parcel paper. Slowly I began to cut it open and rip off the paper. Upon removing it I saw my knife had scratched a long mark into a solid wooden box. If he was trying to send me some message of dominance then he had but a considerable amount of money behind it in comparison to just sending a letter to where I lived, the message would have gotten across all the same. which only made me more concerned about what could be inside to be worth the cost of the box.  
I used the tip of my knife to open lift the hinged top of the box. Peering inside I found a sight I wasn't expecting at all. A bouquet of slightly wilted roses lay inside, wrapped in the same paper was the parcel had been in addition to being tied in the centre with some twine. On top of the roses lay a letter. “ _For Tommy_ ” the front read. It became quickly apparent to me that this was a taunt at my business from my new partner. Sending me flowers like I was some woman rather than the man in control of the entirety of Birmingham. not the mention the using of the nickname Tommy. A jab that he knew what my own family called me as used it openly himself, a lot less respectful than “Thomas” was.   
Turning the card over it read:

_Tommy,_  
_To good business_

_Ps, I hope the flowers found you okay - it is such a hassle to discreetly ship these sort of things._

Upon reading it I quickly ripped it in half, and then in half again until it was in small enough pieces where it was chucked back into the box. It was frustrating in all honesty. To think that you have the start of what will be a great business arrangement only to be taunted and put down by a man who views himself to be bigger than a Birmingham gangster. I will have to find his home address, that is for sure, to send him a parcel of my own in an act to show that I'm not afraid to stand up for myself. I'd have to match in costs too to show we were equals. Wordless but effective nonetheless.  
I picked up the ‘gift’ and brought it back home, Ada almost instantly came out from the kitchen to see what the parcel was, wiggling her eyebrows at me when she saw the contents. “Oo the wandering jew? I didn't know who had an appetite for them sorta men” she grinned, taking the flowers out the box to presumedly put them in some vase somewhere. “I don't have an appetite for any sort of men, Ada. Where are you putting them?” I replied as he began waking up the stairs. “Sure, Tommy. And I'm taking them to your room, I will give you a vase don't worry! wouldn't want you to be without such a loving gift” she winked before continuing “also unless you also want the box I suggest you go ask if the Garrison want it for storing glasses or some something. It's too nice a box for it to go to waste! Take that love letter and knife out first though.” she said before disappearing into her room for the vase. Always leave it to her to find fun in an attack on our empire.


	2. chapter two

A week or so had passed since the incident when word reached me of someone unfamiliar in the garrison. In that time I had returned the favour of a gift. It was simplistic yet effective in conveying the message he was getting across to London that I was to be both respected and taken seriously. After uncovering his address though my intelligence up in London I sent him solid wood walking stick with A for Alfie encouraged on the head, just below the gold metal handle. Along with the walking stick also carried on our tradition of letters

To good business indeed  
-Thomas Shelby -

Making a note to use my real, full name on it to remind Solomons that I wasn't Tommy to him and therefore he shouldn't call me that. Admittedly it had been expensive, or it would have been if I wasn't so severely discounted by the seller and engraver. But I felt it was necessary to spend a bit on this gift, level the playing field with Alfie and remind him I am just as good as he is.  
Walking into the garrison I looked around only to find a few of the usual patrons enjoying their usual drink after work and no sign of someone unfamiliar. Grace walked up to me from behind the bar, “he's in the snug. Said he would like to talk to you.” she smiled, polishing a beer glass as she spoke. She hadn't been working here too long but she dad the confidence of someone who'd been here since time immemorial  
“And why did you let him in there?” I asked, staring at her as she went on, unfazed. “He seemed important,” she replied before walking off, golden locks bouncing on her shoulders as she went to serve more patrons.  
Opening the snug revealed a man I had only met once despite me thinking about him considerably more for someone I was merely acquainted with. Upon noticing me enter he looked up from the small book he was reading and placed it on the table, holding his arms out invitingly as he smiled at me. “Tommy! I was waiting for you I was,” he said. Taking a seat next to the bearded man I noticed my cane was stood up against the wall. “Why are you here, Mr Solomons?” I asked, trying to sound as unbothered as I possibly could despite him just sauntering into not only my Birmingham but specifically my pub and acting like he owned the place. My mind quickly reached the realisation that this was the escalation for the gifts. I had matched him and now he was attempting to one-up me. get the upper hand in what was another strange display of dominance.

“Well I received that quite frankly beautiful gift to my humble abode and felt it was only acceptable to say thank you for your generosity in person.” he smiled, referring with his head over to the cane I had noticed earlier.  
After ordering some whiskey through the window Alfie began talking again, seemingly indifferent to my lack of reply. “You see Tommy,” he said, still using that dreaded nickname. It was nothing short of humiliating for him to think he is so far above me that this sort of behaviour is unacceptable. he was important but not so drastically more than me then he thinks he is. "I do find myself to be a man that attaches a certain amount of sentimental value to things, so for you to give me such a gift is something I admire mate." he explained, shaking his head when I offered him a drink. "don't touch the stuff." he scoffed, calling to grace for water instead.  
"I see you enjoyed my gift," he noted as he took the first sip which immediately caught my attention. Ada had put the godforsaken flowers into a vase on my nightstand. "you've been in my room, Mr Solomons?" I asked. how could have he have even gotten into my home when he had to go past Arthur and John. The thought made my blood run cold as I made a move the stand-up. "no Tommy, I haven't been in your fuckin' room now have I? wouldn't have been wise of me. " he said, noticing my panic. "I just couldn't help but notice this very pub we're sat in right now has made very good use of that box." he explained, subsiding my nerves to a point where I felt I could settle back down into my seat. "ah right, I gave it to grace to make use of," I said, nodding in the direction of the bar. Alfie nodded along as I spoke, "you know I wouldn't be opposed to entering your room Tommy, but you would have to invite me. I am pleased to know that's where you decided to put them through." he smiled, finishing his water and placing the glass onto the table. my ears burnt a bit at his words, I shouldn't have told him they were in my room. it makes it appear that I found his gift charming and it had pleased me when in reality it hadn't. the very existence of the roses, now more withered than before, pissed me off as it served as a reminder of how this man viewed me.

"Well, I best be off Tommy, I was only passing by to say thank you," he said, moving to grab his cane before rising to his feet with me swiftly following suit, there was no reason to be here now that he had left, I still had work to do in the office. "well I'm sure we will be in touch again soon, poppit," said Alfie just as his left hand was on the door handle of the snug. I watched, somewhat shocked still, as his hand holding the stick came up to grab mine before lifting it to his mouth and planting a soft kiss there. his lips were dry and his beard tickled the surrounding skin as he pulled away. when he opened the door and left the pub I didn't follow, instead, I sat back down and ordered another whisky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not a big fan of this fic tbh. I am working on a long one like 'taking over London' at the moment and I enjoy them because I put much more effort into rereading and correcting and stuff.  
> this is more casual but it is nice to have a fic like that for when you want to write more casually.
> 
> remember to leave kudos :)

**Author's Note:**

> remember to leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed because I love that shit so much


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